Thursday, October 1, 2020

When Stars Sing

The world around us goes it's way ...blithely...confidently...blooming in season and then letting go, each in turn...rising and falling... with little regard for us. Summer turns to fall, and fall to winter, in spite of our messes, our dishonesties, our foul ups, our inequities. That is something to ponder. Sometimes I need to look outside of the human sphere for wisdom or hope. Consider the lilies of the field... or the stars above...

Image by Pexels of Pixabay

A verse from Job caught my imagination this week:  The morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy.  Job 38:7

Recently I saw a Great Performances PBS show, one in a series called "Now Hear This" with Scott Yoo. In his discussion of Schubert, he mentioned the ephemeral quality of music, how invisible threads of harmony ... or sometimes dissonance...come together to create something of great beauty. But those same threads seem to wander off, or maybe dance off, into the universe once the piece is over. There's something so beautiful and ephemeral and mysterious about that idea, and for me it connects with the idea of the stars singing. Think of the universe in concert: twirling, revolving, dancing, humming, singing... sometimes even twanging away. Day in and day out, the stars sing and twirl without one worry about us. The glory and the majesty of it is overwhelming. I want to be part of that choir!

The best and perhaps only way I can expand on this idea is to share a favorite piece of music. I hope you will enjoy it, and perhaps even shout for joy!

October is my favorite month of the year; the cool air, the beauty of the leaves, several personal celebrations. It is also a time of grief for me. It was in October that I lost a child to bacterial meningitis, many years ago. In one way or another, we all carry grief with us, especially this year... and so I hope that in sharing and honoring our memories we might all know we are not alone, that our separateness will dissolve as quoted below, and that we might grow in understanding and empathy. If you wish, feel free to share the names of your loved ones in the comments below. God bless you all.

Andrew Owen Eastlund, 1982

These musing are in response to this quote from Enneathought which arrived via Margaret Simon:
"Consider the Holy Ideas today: No matter what type you are, in Holy Love, our sense of separateness dissolves, and we know ourselves as arising from the brilliant light of Divine Love that creates and sustains the universe."

Margaret hosts our Spiritual Journey group today at Reflections on the Teche. Thanks, Margaret!


  1. Karen, grief is deep-seated so thank you for sharing your memory today. I lift up a prayer for you for all that you hold dear in October so that peace and joy surround you.

  2. Karen ... the heights and depths of our existence are all in this post. I want to speak about baby Andrew first. He's beautiful. His smile is so sweet. The depth of this loss.. unspeakable. I sit in quiet awe of your love for bright October in its cloak of grief. Your invitation to write of loved of the worst losses for me was my father, the week before he retired. I wrote a poem to him on Friday, the 18th anniversary of his passing, as I find myself longing for his thoughts on the world today, craving his solidity and dependability more than ever. Tomorrow is his birthday. This season so full of crispness and color that I love as well nevertheless contains these stones. Then - the stars! The reference to their singing in Job also calls to mind the Narnia Chronicles, specifically The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, where the stars were living beings ... the Pevensie children encounter a retired one, Ramandu, and his speech is glorious. There are videos and news articles online about ancient stars singing and how scientists can listen and ascertain their ages. Utterly, utterly fascinating. I may need to explore this more. These lines are so magnificent: "Think of the universe in concert: twirling, revolving, dancing, humming, singing... sometimes even twanging away. Day in and day out, the stars sing and twirl without one worry about us. The glory and the majesty of it is overwhelming. I want to be part of that choir!" Me, too, Karen. The perfect choreography of it all is breathtaking, incomprehensible. Thank you for every dazzling and deep, soul-stirring word here. Blessings to you.

    1. Thank you, Fran. I appreciate all your kind words.

  3. Aww Karen, a missing uncle to the grandkids. We will all meet in heaven someday. 2020, a year of losses, lost family visits for me. Looking forward to seeing you and Chris in November.

  4. I really don't know how anyone gets through the death of a child. I'm sure you have felt Andrew's presence with you all these years. I appreciate the depth of this post and all that is here, in grief, in love, and in whole divinity.

  5. Oh, and the hymn...we sang it in our choir for an Evensong when we were allowed to sing in church. Rutter is one of my favorite composers. The Amen was tricky and I felt such holiness when we finally got it right.

  6. I'm so sorry for the loss of your beloved Andrew. I know he'll always live in your memories.

    I love the idea of the stars singing - it makes me think of the medieval idea of the music of the spheres. It's true for me that considering nature is a wonderful way to refocus my attentions on beauty and love.